


One in a Hundred

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious Steve, Happy Ending, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Secrets, Trying To Conceive, loving tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Steve's been pregnant eight times and lost all eight. When he finds out he's pregnant yet again, he wants to feel happy, but mostly, he just feels tired. He's not sure he can handle losing this one too.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 28
Kudos: 689
Collections: POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2019





	One in a Hundred

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HogwartsToAlexandria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [HogwartsToAlexandria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria) in the [stony_stocking_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2019) collection. 



> Couple of warnings for this one: lots of references to and discussions of miscarriages and trouble conceiving, negative self-talk regarding fertility issues, poor communication in a couple (but they still love and respect each other), poor prenatal care (due in part to denial and self-sabotage) and self-blame for lost pregnancies. The way the characters feel about themselves in times of stress and sadness doesn't necessarily reflect how they feel about the topic as a whole (and certainly doesn't necessarily reflect how the author feels).
> 
> This fic also contains mpreg, in detail, but it doesn't go into how that's possible. You're free to imagine how that works in any way you like!
> 
> Thanks to ashes0909 for beta! <3

Steve sat on the bathroom floor and stared at the little stick. It had stopped being exciting to see the second line over a year ago. All Steve could think was,  _ here we go again.  _

He wanted that feeling back, of the first time, when he and Tony had been here together, counting down the seconds then flipping the stick over. The noise of joy Tony had made… it made Steve want to bottle it, hold on to that moment and never let it go. 

But now, twenty-four months and eight lost pregnancies later, it was just… flat. 

They'd been to the doctor. It was the super soldier serum, apparently. Steve's body worked too quickly, too aggressively to allow a baby to grow. The doctor hadn't used the words "hostile environment," but that's what Steve heard. He was a hostile environment.

And yet, the doctors had all told them to keep trying, that they shouldn't give up, that a one-in-a-hundred pregnancy would take and stick. But Steve wasn't sure he could do this ninety-two more times, as desperately as he wanted a child, wanted to give a child to Tony. Maybe it wasn't worth it.

"Maybe we should look into adoption again," Steve told the stick. And if that wasn't bizarre, he didn't know what was - giving up on having kids biologically when he'd just taken a positive pregnancy test.

Well, stressing about it certainly wouldn't help. Steve threw the test in the trash and pushed himself to his feet. At least the serum also meant he didn't have many symptoms. The creak of the front door opening pushed Steve to wash his hands and step out of the bathroom. 

"Hey, sweetheart." Tony drew him into a hug and kissed his cheek. "Everything okay? You look -" Tony poked his nose. "- sour."

Steve chuckled then shrugged. "Nah. I'm fine. Just one of those days." He wanted to tell Tony, he did, but he knew what he'd see on Tony's face: the fake excitement followed by resignation when he thought Steve wasn't looking anymore. If it were up to Tony, they'd stop trying. He was worried about Steve, about what it was putting him through to keep getting his hopes up only to have them dashed again and again. He was worried about what it was doing to his body, despite all the professional promises that Steve's problem was that he was  _ too  _ healthy. 

And even though he'd never voiced it out loud, Steve knew Tony was worried about his age. He had almost ten years on Steve and he knew what it was like to lose parents young. He wanted to be there for his kids.

But Tony wanted kids  _ so badly.  _ They'd talked about it on their fifth date. They both did. 

_ Okay,  _ Steve said to himself.  _ When this one fails, I'll tell Tony I'm ready to adopt. _

**

Three weeks later, Steve still hadn't said a word and a new test still came back positive. He woke up in the middle of the night sometimes, sure he'd lost it, but everything was okay. He would get out of bed and do anxious laps around the apartment, one hand on his stomach.

He had to tell Tony, he knew he did. Even just because when he lost this one too, he'd need Tony to be there for him.

But another week went by and he didn't say anything.

**

"What is that?" Tony's lip curled up.

Steve looked down at his bowl. "What?"

"It smells like pickles in here."

A flush crept up the back of Steve's neck. "I put some salt and vinegar chips on my chili."

"You what?"

"It's good."

Tony burst out laughing. "I love watching you discover the most disgusting food combinations the future has to offer." He kissed the top of Steve's head then wrinkled his nose. "Gross."

"This from the man who, when allowed to choose any flavour of doughnut, chooses Boston cream."

"It's nummy." Tony flopped on the couch next to him. 

"It's cloying."

Tony poked him with a foot. "You're cloying."

"You like me clingy."

"I do."

Steve stuck his spoon in his mouth and chewed a mixture of spiced chili and vinegary chips. Okay, maybe it was a bit odd. "Now where have I heard that before?" he said, pretending to think.

"Few years ago," Tony offered. "All I remember is a bunch of people hanging around, you crying -"

"I didn't!"

"- and Wilson dropping my ring -"

Steve was laughing wildly now. "Tony…"

"- and me fubbing my vows -"

"You're impossible." Steve squeezed his ankle. "I love you."

"I love you too."

**

By week thirteen, Steve was sure he'd imagined the positive test. He felt exactly the same as he always did. It wasn't real. 

He didn't take another test.

**

"Hey, baby?" Tony whispered in the dark. 

Steve was still panting, sweat pooling in his lower back, sated and warm, a comfortable glow flushing through him. He turned his face to Tony. He could barely pick him out in the dark. "Yeah?"

"You don't talk about… I mean, lately, you haven't - are we still… trying?"

Anxiety swirled through Steve's stomach and for a moment, he was afraid he was going to throw up. "It's not - I mean -" He took a breath. "It doesn't matter. It's not going to work. I don't think it's going to work. But I just need -"  _ I just need this one to end.  _

"All the time you need, honey. All the time. Anything. Whatever. It's just that sometimes when you don't say anything, it's because you need me to say something. And sometimes it's because you want me to shut the fuck up."

Steve reached out with a groan and circled Tony's waist. He pulled him close. "Don't want you to shut the fuck up. I'm not back on birth control. So we're just -"

"Just not thinking about it right now."

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I know we should start the adoption thing, but I just -"

"You need time to grieve, Steve. It's okay. I don't know if I'm ready, either. We had a plan and this is a big, difficult wrench. We'll wait."

"Okay, thank you."

Tony gathered Steve in his arms and kissed his way across his brow. "Sleep, my love."

**

At twenty-one weeks, Steve panicked. 

He hadn't been to the doctor, he hadn't told  _ anyone.  _ But suddenly he was five months pregnant and nothing had happened.

Unless he wasn't. 

Maybe it really hadn't been real.

Steve waited until Tony was out of the apartment then peeled the wrapper off a new test. He barely had to wait; the second line glowed bright and solid almost immediately.  _ Shit.  _ He put a hand over his stomach, but he couldn't get attached, couldn't think this was real, couldn't think this was really going to happen. It wasn't going to happen. His body would reject it eventually. 

He stood in front of the mirror and pulled his shirt up. He looked the same. There was no bulge, no change. Could there really be a tiny human growing in there?

Fear twisted up with a taste of the excitement he hadn't felt in a long time, but he squashed both down. It didn't matter. This wasn't happening.

He stopped counting the weeks after that.

**

Tony pulled two wine glasses out of the cupboard and waved one in Steve's direction. "Pinot my poppet?"

"Oh. Uh. No, thanks."

Tony squinted at him. "Gone off it? I've noticed we've been backing up a bit on the wine. Should I change the order?"

Steve's hand twitched towards his stomach, but he stopped it. "Yeah. Just not feeling it lately."

"Alright."

**

Steve's uniform didn't fit quite the way it used to. He grunted a bit as he did up the buttons around the waistband.

**

Steve woke up with a sharp cry and doubled over, pain rippling from his core down his thighs and up through his stomach.  _ Oh god.  _ This was it. He wrapped his arms around his waist and tried to breathe through the pain, but it wasn't quite like any pain he'd experienced before. It was low and powerful and -

Over.

He sucked a deep breath in.

"Steve?!" Tony's hands landed on either side of his face. "Come on baby, tell me what's wrong."

"Tony?" It registered that Tony had been saying his name for a while now. "I'm -"

_ I'm losing the baby,  _ he tried to say. But Tony didn't know there even was a baby. And -

The pain started again, like his whole body was curling up with some fervent instinct that he couldn't fight. He groaned through it, his hand finding Tony's. This was different. This was new. This was -

"Labour. Tony I'm in labour. Oh, god."

"You're -?! I'm - what? You - wait. Back it up. Huh?"

"I'm in labour." The contraction faded, and Steve was able to sit up fully again. His eyes welled with tears. "Tony, I'm so sorry. I didn't tell you. I - I didn't believe it would really happen this time, but it just… didn't… end. And now - now. I -"

Tony took a big, deep breath in, then let it out slowly through his mouth. "Okay. Well. We're going to the hospital," he said steadily.

"Tony -"

"Don't. Shh." Tony kissed him firmly. "Don't think about that. We're going to get you to the hospital and make sure everything's alright, and get you through this and then you can tell me everything, okay?"

Steve nodded. "Okay." Another wave of cramps hit him, and Steve folded over with a whine.

Getting to the hospital was a blur of deep pain, trying to breathe, and Tony's hand in his. When they arrived at the ER, Tony took him straight to the triage desk. "My husband's in labour," he said breathlessly.

"How far apart are the contractions?" she asked, pulling out clipboards and forms.

"Uh. It keeps changing. I was getting two minutes at one point but then we got ten in the car."

The nurse's eyebrow quirked up. "Hmm, alright."

By the time they were settled in an exam room, the contractions had stopped altogether and Steve was on the verge of tears. Again. It had happened again. He couldn't do this anymore. He wasn't going to be able to look at Tony's face when the doctor told him that Steve had failed him for the ninth time. 

Tony took his hand and rubbed his thumb over the back. "Honey. Hey. You okay?"

Steve shook his head. "I can't do this again," he managed to mutter. "I'm so sorry. Tony, I'm so sorry."

Tony immediately crawled up so he was halfway on the exam bed, folded over Steve's chest and cupped his jaw. "Darling. You are the love of my life. You are strong and beautiful and incredible and perfect. I know we both want kids and we wanted to do it this way, but it's  _ not your fault  _ and I will never, ever stop loving you. If we can't do this, that's fine. We'll be fine. We'll get dogs. Like ten little pomeranians. Or we'll steal some of those cute babies from the checkout lines at the grocery store."

Steve snorted out a wet laugh. "Tony…"

"Don't you dare ever think I would ever,  _ ever  _ see this as a failing on your part. I'm blown away by how strong you've been, how brave. A thousand times braver than I could ever be. If you want to try a hundred times, I will try a hundred times. If you want to stop now, we'll stop now. Sweetheart, I love you so fucking much."

Steve wrapped his arms around him. "I love you, too. So much. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you."

"It's okay. It's okay. I know. I get it."

There was a soft knock on the door and Tony leaned back, keeping Steve's hand snuggled between his. 

Steve's SHIELD doctor had been called in as soon as they saw all the special labels on his file. She smiled when she saw them. "Good evening," she said brightly. "So you think you're going into labour. Mr. Rogers?" If she was surprised she hadn't heard he was pregnant sooner, she didn't show it.

Steve's heart clenched. "Uh. I thought so. But now I think… maybe. Maybe not."

"Alright. Well, let's have a look, then." She got the ultrasound out. Steve flinched at the cold jelly on his belly. She flicked a switch on the machine and suddenly the whole room was filled with rapid thumping.

Steve half sat up, staring at the screen. It was just a mess of static. "Is that -?"

"A heartbeat? Sure is."

"My heartbeat?"

She smiled. "Your baby's heartbeat. There we go!" She turned the screen towards them and amongst the random static, Steve could make out the curve of a head. 

"No."

"Yes, sir. And looking mighty fine, I might add. I suspect this was false labour. Basically random contractions while your body figures things out, gets prepped for the big day. I'd like to run some tests, but I might recommend a c-section before you go into labour properly, considering how strong your contractions could get with super powered muscles. Better to head it off at the pass."

"But the baby's okay?"

"Oh yes. Doing wonderfully. Do you know the conception date?"

Steve did some quick math. "I must be… thirty-one weeks? Why aren't I - uh - bigger?"

"Your abdominals are so strong they actually kind of hold everything in. You'll have felt more internal pressure, but a lot of bodybuilders don't really see an outward change. It's fine for the baby, though. Nice and cozy in there." She offered Steve a smile. "I'm going to take some blood and do a physical exam, but I don't want you to worry, Steve. Obviously, I can't make any promises, but rejection of the type you were experiencing usually happens within the first two months. We're well out of the danger zone now. This is a viable pregnancy and we're going to do everything we can to protect it, okay?"

"Okay," Steve breathed. "Thank you."

The next two hours were spent at the hospital and by the time they got in Tony's town car, Steve was so exhausted he nodded off on the drive back home. They stumbled back up to the penthouse, and Tony guided Steve to the bed then sat down next to him.

"You feeling okay?" Tony asked.

"I… don't know. Yeah. I'm - wow." His hand went to his stomach, fingers splayed wide. "It's really -?"

"Yeah, honey. It's real. Look." Tony reached into his pocket and came out with a print out. He handed it to Steve. It was the ultrasound. 

"They gave you a copy?"

"Yeah. I asked for one while you were getting your blood taken."

Steve ran his finger around the curve of the little skull. "Wow." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I'm so sorry. We should have done this earlier. And together. I -"

"Steve. Don't do that. You did what you needed to do. I'm not mad, sweetheart. I'm not mad."

"Are you sure? It'd be okay if you were."

"I'm sure. I thought I was for a bit there... but I was just scared. I can't lie and say I'm not a bit relieved that it wasn't labour. That we still have a bit of time to get ready. And for me to pamper the fuck out of my gorgeous, pregnant husband."

Steve laughed, sinking back into the pillows. "Tony. What on earth would I do without you?"

"You'll never have to find out." Tony's hand folded over Steve's, covering his belly. 


End file.
